


Lost and Found

by glitterandgin



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: College AU, Just fluff basically, M/M, Modern AU, accidental sleep cuddling, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-09 10:12:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4344533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitterandgin/pseuds/glitterandgin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders finds a missing Ser Pounce-a-lot and becomes a little closer with his new neighbour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost and Found

He knew it was counterproductive, which only made him feel worse. Anders sat on the steps leading up to his apartment, eyes red and throat sore from calling Ser Pounce-a-lot’s name as he wandered up and down every street in the area. He took another short, hiccupy breath and tried to work up the energy to continue his search.

Clouds crept over the horizon, grey and heavy with the promise of rain. _Ser Pounce-a-lot, lost in the rain, scared and wet and hungry…_ he must have had some untapped reserve of tears, because the thought made him begin weeping anew. He sniffled and wiped his nose on his sleeve, wishing he could breathe past the lump in his throat. His stomach felt like it’d been replaced with a lead weight.

To his left, a door creaked open.

“Can I help you?” a man said. Out of the corner of his eye, Anders saw a pair of practical yet stylish men’s shoes and trousers with creases so sharp they could cut through granite.

Anders choked on a breath and said, “‘m looking for my cat. He’s orange and little, with the cutest green eyes.” His voice broke on “eyes” and he swallowed another sob.

“With a blue bell collar?”

“Have you seen him?” Hope flared in his chest like an exploding star, sudden and blinding.

“He ran into my apartment two days ago,” the man said. “I tried to call the number on his tag, but it was so scuffed that I couldn’t make it out.”

“He hates his tags. He’s always chewing on them,” Anders said with a watered down smile.

“Could you come get him?”

Anders stood and looked at the man properly. He’d admit that his vision was skewed by the man’s role in finding Ser Pounce-a-lot, but his heart lit up at the sight of him. It was like having his breath stolen by a warm spring breeze, exhilarating and calming all at once. After the initial joy wore off, he noticed that the man’s eyes and nose were red and puffy. Unless he’d also just finished a crying jag, there was the very real possibility that he was highly allergic to cats.

These suspicions were confirmed when they entered his (fastidiously--home and gardening magazine--neat) apartment and he began sneezing immediately.

If Anders’ heart lit up when he saw Ser Pounce-a-lot’s rescuer, it was incandescent at the sight of Ser Pounce-a-lot running to him. He scooped the cat into his arms and held him like a holy talisman as tears poured from his eyes once more.

“Thank you so much,” he said, gasping between words. “I can’t even begin… I owe you so much. Thank you.”

Ser Pounce-a-lot nibbled on his chin, and it was like his world had been turned rightside up. It was like he’d been swimming with rocks in his pockets, and now he could float easily on the surface. He closed his eyes and smiled, tears still leaking from the corners of his eyes.

He said, “I’m Anders. I live next door to you.”

“Nathaniel.”

“Really, I can’t thank you enough. Seriously, I owe you.”

And that’s how he found himself standing outside Nathaniel’s door with a basket of chocolates two days later. Nathaniel looked surprised when he opened the door, as though he’d forgotten about his neighbour entirely.

“I wanted to thank you again for everything,” Anders said, holding up the basket of chocolates as though it were a shield. “I got you chocolates.”

“It looks like you got me an entire chocolate shop,” Nathaniel said, smiling.

“Believe me, it was tempting. Ah, anyway. Here you go.” He handed the basket to Nathaniel and was prepared to return to his apartment when Nathaniel grabbed his arm, releasing it like a hot poker when Anders turned to look at him.

“Do you want to come in? I’m making tea.”

Anders smiled. Contrary to what he’d expected, he still experienced a glimmer of joy from looking at him. He wondered if it would fade away, or if Nathaniel’s face would be inextricably linked to happiness for the rest of their time as neighbours. He wouldn’t complain about the latter; it made a pleasing face all the more enjoyable to look at.

He said, “I’d love tea.”

He sat at the worn but clean kitchen table while Nathaniel prepared a mug of tea for him.

“Sugar? Milk?”

“No, thanks.”

“Good, because I’m out of both.”

Anders let out a “tch” of amusement. Their fingers brushed briefly as Nathaniel handed him the mug, and Anders couldn’t stop himself from smiling up at Nathaniel. Nathaniel looked away.

“I didn’t know we were allowed to have pets here,” Nathaniel said as they waited for their tea to cool.

This time it was Anders’ turn to look away. “Technically we’re not, but I have a letter saying that I’m allowed to have a cat.”

“How does that work?”

“It’s a long story,” Anders said. While he tried not to be ashamed of his disorder, he didn’t want to discuss it with a virtual stranger. He’d learned the hard way that doing so was the equivalent of wandering onto a minefield while blindfolded. At the very least, it opened up the opportunity for Nathaniel to decide he had the right to ask invasive questions.

“Well, you have a very nice cat. Despite his tendency to shred my papers,” Nathaniel said, taking a sip of his tea.

“He’s the best.” Anders could feel himself slipping into “proud cat owner” mode and said, “It’s amazing that I’ve never seen you around before this.”

“I just moved here. I’m on the run from the law,” Nathaniel said, raising an eyebrow.

Anders snorted. “I’ll let you hide in my apartment if the police decide to raid yours.”

“That’s very neighbourly of you.”

“Some neighbours let you borrow a cup of sugar; I hide wanted criminals in my apartment,” Anders said with a grin. “Really, it’s the least I can do for the man who rescued my cat. So, why did you really move here?”

Nathaniel shrugged. “I got an archery scholarship to the university here.”

“Oh, wow! That’s--congratulations,” Anders said, nodding. “I tried archery once. I gave myself a black eye.”

Nathaniel smiled, eyes crinkling and eyebrows drawing together. That smile should not have made Anders as happy as it did. Nathaniel said, “That’s the first time I’ve heard of that happening.”

“You don’t want to know what happened when I tried to golf,” Anders said, feeling a matching smile spread across his face. Nathaniel had chosen the chair next to Anders’, and their knees were almost brushing. Anders wondered what would happen if they actually did.

“Is there any sport you can do?” Nathaniel said, still smiling.

Anders pursed his lips. “I can run. I’m actually pretty good at running. Probably because there’s no equipment to smack me in the face or otherwise maim me.”

“I could teach you how to shoot a bow, if you want,” Nathaniel said. He looked just as shocked by his words as Anders.

“I’d like that,” Anders said. “I’ll make some health poultices beforehand.”

Nathaniel laughed. It was a dark laugh, like red wine. Then suddenly, mid-laugh, he snorted and Anders found himself joining in the laughter.

When he’d stopped laughing, Anders glanced over at the clock. It was nearly nine in the evening, and he still hadn’t started on his physiology homework.

He grimaced and said, “I should probably go home now. It was great talking to you, though.”

“I’ll walk you to your door,” Nathaniel said, standing.

It was only once he’d arrived at the door that he realised that: A) the door was very much locked, and B) his keys were very much still inside on the kitchen counter.

“Shit,” he said, still jiggling the doorknob in hopes that it would see the error of its ways and cooperate with him.

“You could stay the night at my place,” Nathaniel said, the words hitting Anders just as he was considering the merits of summoning a massive rock to hurl through his door. The lease agreement never said anything prohibiting that, after all.

“Are you sure? I don’t want--”

“It’s no problem.”

Anders let go of the doorknob and followed Nathaniel back into his apartment.

“Do you have any extra pyjamas?”

“I’ll find something for you.”

He returned with a pair of hideous yellow plaid pyjama bottoms that Anders already knew would be too long for him. Without thinking, Anders began peeling his shirt off. He stopped with it pulled up over his head, covering his face.

“Um. I’ll go change somewhere else,” he said, his voice slightly muffled by his t-shirt.

Nathaniel cleared his throat. When Anders put his t-shirt back down, Nathaniel’s cheeks were pink.

“The toilet’s just down the hall.”

Anders nodded and left, twisting the hem of his shirt in his hands as he walked. He changed quickly and returned to Nathaniel, who was still slightly flushed. Anders had judged the size of the pyjama bottoms correctly; the fabric pooled around his ankles so there was the very real possibility that every step he took could end with him landing flat on his face. Still, they were more comfortable than sleeping in jeans.

“Well,” he said, eyeing the couch. It didn’t look like it’d be too uncomfortable. “Thanks for letting me crash here.”

“You don’t have to sleep on the couch,” Nathaniel said, picking at a button on his shirt.

“You’d let me sleep on the table? You’re too good to me,” Anders said with a crooked smile.

Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “I meant you could share my bed. If you want. If you’d prefer the couch, that’s fine.”

“No, I’d love to share your bed. I mean. It has to be more comfortable than the couch,” Anders said with a cough. He could feel the tips of his ears warm.

“Great,” Nathaniel said, then coughed. At this rate, they’d end up speaking entirely in coughs. “Follow me.”

Nathaniel’s bedroom was little more than a bed and a lamp. Heavy blue curtains blocked out the streetlights, and the bed had exactly one pillow. All in all, the room screamed “bachelor with no intention of changing that status in the immediate future”.

Nathaniel gestured to the bed. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.”

He returned moments later clad in only his boxers and an expression that suggested any comments should be carefully considered before being voiced.

Anders merely raised his eyebrows and climbed into bed, taking the side without the pillow. Nathaniel joined him shortly after. They lay on their sides, facing each other in silence as awkward as a baby giraffe’s first attempt at walking.

“Well,” Anders said, looking at a spot just to the right of Nathaniel’s face. “G’night.”

The first thought Anders had when he woke was that he’d somehow been captured by a very warm, rather dry octopus. All attempts at wriggling out of Nathaniel’s grip were met with a tightening of said grip, and soft breaths tickled the back of his neck. Faced with no other options, Anders relaxed into Nathaniel’s embrace and let himself fall back asleep.

When he awoke a second time, Nathaniel’s lips were pressed to the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and one leg was draped over his hip. Anders found himself shifting so that Nathaniel had better access to his neck, and he practically melted when Nathaniel’s lips pressed harder against him. Time felt liquid; they could have spent a minute or a year like that.

Nathaniel tightened his grip on Anders one last time before stirring and letting go of him.

“I am so sorry,” Nathaniel said, his voice still coarse with sleep. “Maybe you should have slept on the couch after all.”

Anders touched the spot where Nathaniel’s lips had met his flesh and smiled as he turned to face Nathaniel. “Don’t apologise. That was the best way I’ve woken up in a while. I wouldn’t mind waking up like that more often.”

“You mean--”

Anders scooted forward until they were practically nose to nose and brushed his lips against Nathaniel’s. “Yes. I mean.”

Nathaniel kissed him, and it was like releasing a long-held breath. Hands tangled in his hair as the kiss deepened, and Anders moved so his leg was draped over Nathaniel’s hip. They kept kissing until it almost hurt to separate.

Nathaniel said, “We should get up.”

“Yeah,” Anders breathed.

Nathaniel brushed his thumb across Anders’ cheekbone. “Really. We should get up.”

Anders frowned but removed his leg from atop Nathaniel’s hip and followed Nathaniel out of bed.

Nathaniel smiled at him like he’d just experienced divine ecstasy. “I could make us breakfast.”

Anders shuffled after him as he walked to the kitchen, taking care not to trip over the pyjama bottoms that seemed to have only grown longer during the night. He plopped down in the same chair he’d occupied the day before and watched as Nathaniel gathered the ingredients for omelettes.

He wanted to memorize the way Nathaniel looked as he watched the eggs bubbling in the skillet, all intent stare and measured breaths. Every so often he’d glance out of the corner of his eye to look at Anders, and Anders’ breath caught in his throat each time.

Nathaniel set the omelettes in front of them and sat next to Anders. This time their knees touched, and it felt as natural as blinking. Anders leaned forward and put his hands on Nathaniel’s thighs.

“Thanks for letting me stay the night,” he said, painfully aware of the pulse in his wrists as he spoke.

Nathaniel brushed a stray piece of hair out of Anders’ face and kissed him. “I should thank you for staying the night.”

Anders wrapped his arms around Nathaniel’s neck. “If this is what I get for locking myself out, I’ll have to do it more often.”


End file.
